Snap-shots
by kazuko59
Summary: What happened before, in between, and after the events in the books. Small everyday happenings that make the precious little memories in the life of various Harry Potter characters. Done in responce to a challenge by a friend of mine. Day 1: Oliver Woods, day 2: Albus Dumbledore, day 3: Tom Riddle Jr.
1. Oliver Woods

Day 1 - Oliver Woods / preHogwarts

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Flying broomstick was the best thing wizardkind had ever invented. Even at a tender age of six years old, Oliver Woods knew this to be true. And anyone who tried to convince him otherwise can go to he—

He stopped himself before he could finish the sentence. His mother did not tolerate foul language— _your mother did not raise a barbarian, so you will not use that horrible words ever again, Oliver!_ —in the house. And he obeyed. If only because his mother has threatened to lock away his beloved Bluebottle if he dared to utter any in her presence. The habit was just carried over to his subconscious. Nothing would ever get between him and his broomstick!

"What's with that frown, little cousin?"

Jerking with fright and automatically drawing his broomstick closer, Oliver whirled around.

"Ray!" Forgetting his ire, Oliver ran forward to hug his favourite cousin. And no, it was not just because the older boy had introduced him to the world of flying broomsticks. Much. Anyway, cousin!

"How's my little Ollie doing?"

Pulling away with a frown that only make his way older cousin chuckle, Oliver settled on stomping on a shoe-clad foot. Hard. The corresponding yowl could never be more satisfying.

"A little hellion, you are," was said with an obvious fondness, followed with a familiar hair ruffle, "Clearly a Gryffindor cub in the making."

Ducking the hand with a laugh, Oliver grabbed his cousin's hand before proceeding to drag the older towards the back door. The older boy could easily held his ground, but instead allowed his baby cousin to drag him away. It was obvious where the boy wanted to go.

"You want a race?"

Oliver rolled his eyes heaven-wards, "What else, dummy? Come on!"

A chuckle, and then he was suddenly airborne. Just for a split second, before he was settled on his cousin's hip. Well-used to the older randomly carrying him, Oliver only moved his hand so that he could grab a fistful of sweater.

"You know, there's something else we could do aside from just flying."

"But flying is the best!" was said with a skeptical frown on his young face.

Ray laughed cheerfully, "But it's so lonely, flying by yourself. If you want a game to play with your friends, Quidditch is the one to go with."

Olliver snorted from where he was perched on his cousin's hold. Eyes already focusing on the spread of green, green grass below a clear blue sky. Perfect weather for flying!

"Laugh while you can, little cousin. I'll bet you'll learn to love the game by the end of the day."

He needn't bother to give such a long time period. Olliver had fallen in love with the game ten minutes in.


	2. Albus Dumbledore

Day 2 - Albus Dumbledore / Streetlamp

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There was a small part of him that found lights fascinating. All sort of light, from natural to man made, from bright to melancholic, from white to colourful. They all had the same attractiveness about them. And so it was usually what happened with mankind, they would attempt to capture them. Albus Dumbledore was no exception.

However, different with most of the common occurence, he succeeded.

The deluminator was one of his proudest invention, even if it was not the most well-known. And just as true to his nature as a man, he selfishly kept the design—and also the only concrete product—to himself.

He only partially succeeded, to no disappointment though. For it was enough for him. The device could only trap artificial light, such as the delightful light blub that the muggle has so creatively invented. Another reason not to share this particular invention to the rest of the wizarding world, for the discrimination against muggle and muggleborn were still in rampage in some families. And even those who did not, had not attempted to really study the custom of their non-magical brothers and sisters.

However, here as he walked through the streetlamp lit street, he found himself amazed once again. It has been more than a decade since he last step a foot in this area, and it was quite fascinating to see just how far the muggle world had developed. A weathered hand raised his deluminator and with a soft click the light from the nearest streetlamp flashed away into the device.

For as nice as light was, darkness could also offer its own form of comfort.


	3. Tom Riddle Jr

Day 3 - Moving / Tom Riddle

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He was special, that much he knew from an astonishingly early age. It was clear as day, just as the fact that leaves were green. Or that water was liquid and therefore changed its shape according to its container. And so was the fact that one Tom Marvolo Riddle was uniquely different from the rest of the children in Wool's Orphanage.

There was _power_ in him. Power that only _he_ had. Things moved when he willed it to. Animals followed his command. And most incredible, snakes _spoke_ to him. He reveled in the knowledge that he alone has this capability, making no real effort in trying to blend in with the ordinary people. And just as well, they responded in kind.

He was... alienated. Feared.

Grown ups started to talk and whisper behind his back. The other children started to avoid him, purposefuly not including him in their games and secrets. It did not take long for him to notice the wariness in the gazes directed at him

And he found that he relished it.

He started collecting his 'trophies' then. Small tokens that would remind him of his achievements.

So it happened, so it continued. Until the day Albus Dumbledore came.

He learned one very important thing that day. That he was at the bottom of the ladder. What he had in this dingy little orphanage might be power, but in the midst of others who was just as... _special_ as he was, he had none. And so he would have to start from the very beginning once again. He would obey Dumbledore's rules, and also the wizarding world's. He would be unflinchingly charismatic, undeniably charming. He would strike right at their heart, obtaining their adoration.

It would be just as before, with slightly more special kind of audience. But an audience all the same. It was futile of them to resist, for in the end...

Power would be his.


End file.
